


Diamond Eyes

by astigmaticambition



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, But No Actual Suicide, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Pizza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:52:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astigmaticambition/pseuds/astigmaticambition
Summary: Kurt and Blaine contemplate suicide over pizza and blow jobs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LJ July 18, 2013.  
> Original summary: "To get myself back into writing, I have decided to write a Klaine fic for each song on the Deftones' album Diamond Eyes. I chose that album because it was the one in my stereo. So here is the first fic/ first song/ title song, "Diamond Eyes". Super angsty, because I'm super angsty. This was supposed to help, somehow.
> 
> Rating: R
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of blowjobs and suicide. Nothing explicit. Also, unbeta'd, because I like to live dangerously."
> 
> I clearly never finished the album.

It's not that Blaine had some kind of eye fetish, it's just that he sort of fell apart every time Kurt looked at him. This feeling remained consistent as they moved from friends to lovers, and again as teenagers to adults.

If Blaine tore his eyes away from the bare white ceiling and let them meet Kurt's gaze, staring up at him from between his legs, Kurt's mouth already mercilessly making him lose his mind, he would absolutely give every piece of himself to the man at his knees.

Blaine resisted, until Kurt's nose met Blaine's stomach, and then there was no resisting.

\---

"Are you going to eat that, or just play with it?" They were both sitting naked on the floor. Sex had happened, then pizza and Buffalo wings had been delivered and devoured. Kurt was dragging a celery stick through pools of blue cheese dressing and Buffalo sauce. Now that the afterglow was wearing off, they were both getting to the bad place. The place where the tiny apartment went from "cozy" to "suffocating". Where being young and broke in New York stopped seeming so romantic and started looking more desperate.

Kurt was 25 and working at the same Starbucks he'd started at when he moved to the city. Sure, he was full-time now, now that he was no longer in school, now that he'd got his utterly fucking useless fashion degree, complete with tres chic student loans.

Blaine was a little better off- assistant manager at The Gap, a position Kurt had teased him about relentlessly for, but no longer seemed so funny.

So they were okay. They were paying the bills and living in the city of their dreams with the love of their lives. It was enough.

Except when it wasn't.

Except for days like today, where the cops barricaded the street in front of Kurt's store so some dumb action movie could film their chase scene. When the overgrown frat boy star came in and flashed his veneers and Kurt hated himself for envying the man's career.

Kurt came home in tears, begging Blaine to "do me like Peaches- fuck the pain away."

The high only lasts a little while.

Kurt dropped the celery stick.

"I'm thinking of moving back to Ohio. I'm also thinking that, once my dad dies, I'm killing myself."

"Kurt-"

"If he keeps working like he does, it won't be long now. I mean, he's the reason I never did before, when things got bad, before I met you."

Kurt looked up at Blaine then, those eyes as bright and blue and wet as the oceans were supposed to be. The Atlantic Blaine never got to see, because unpolluted waters were, too, an empty dream.

It took eight years, but Blaine finally learned to shut up. He leaned across the cardboard box, palm planting in the leftover grease, and kissed the salt from Kurt's cheeks.

They cleaned up, then went to bed. Kurt was shaking, just a little, not crying anymore, his skin cold to touch, so Blaine held him tight, and tried to be strong for the two of them.

If they could make it through this night, they could make it through the next one.

Soon it'll be Blaine's turn. Maybe his parents will call, to remind him of his squandered potential, or his brother will show up at the door, needing a couch to sleep on and loans he'll never repay. And it'll be Kurt's turn to pretend everything will be okay, hold him close until morning comes, and they pretend like nothing ever happened.

 _One of these days_ , Blaine thinks, _one of these days, Finn will call and tell us how great being a stay-at-home dad is, and we will steal a car and drive into the bay._

He wakes up sprawled on his back, chocolate-flavored lube drizzled on his thighs, Kurt's eyes incandescent with intent.

Let's have fun while we're still alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Original end notes: "Notes: The eponymous song, "Diamond Eyes" by Deftones 
> 
> "Fuck The Pain Away" by Peaches
> 
> "I'll Be Yours" by Placebo, which isn't mentioned in the story, but popped into my head earlier today and struck me as quite appropriate."
> 
> I don't quite know how I feel about this fic now, or remember how I felt then, given what was happening at the time, and all the years in between.


End file.
